


Faded

by BloodMageSpectre



Series: Aspiranti Inspirata [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Cousland (Dragon Age) Backstory, Dreaming, Dwarven Carta (Dragon Age), F/F, F/M, Freeform, Multi, The Fade, Unplanned Pregnancy, wandering mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 10:39:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17160473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodMageSpectre/pseuds/BloodMageSpectre
Summary: It’s just some silly little wanna-be-ficlet,  I made forJohn Cousland’sbirthday.I suggest hitting play onthis songwhile reading this mini-piece.





	Faded

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JohnCousland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnCousland/gifts).



> It’s just some silly little wanna-be-ficlet, I made for [John Cousland’s](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnCousland/profile) birthday.  
> I suggest hitting play on [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LQOI_0LGrDI) while reading this mini-piece.

She blew off the candle and she rolled to her side, heavy and light at the same time, scooching away from Jarvia, her fingers caressing the emptiness alongside her body, gently touching the rugged fur mattress, resting her face against the cool slightly hardened pillow. She pulled the thick and coarse blanket atop of her nakedness, smoothing the billowing stained cloud across herself, allowing her body to succumb to the warmth and darkness around her. There was a sudden urge from the call of the sleep, enveloping and ethereal like smoke. Junia had always fallen asleep slowly at first, and then all at once she was gone, her mind completely blank until the world claimed her back to reality. But this night her mind was forever caught in a dance of memories and thoughts, demanding analysis, action, and not until her mind was very tired, she'd be allowed to sleep. Then, suddenly, a blackness started to take over, like always, hovering over her eyelids, pushing them down, her body becoming heavier and heavier, her senses drifting off one by one. At this point, she eagered for the sweet relief of mental oblivion.

As her consciousness receded, her mind begun to free fall, swirling in colours and chaos she couldn't make sense of. A new awakening. Her hands tingled, but her eyes refused to look down at them. There was some numb disobedience running in her body, like she was at the verge of getting drunk. There was a quite nonsensical imagery around her, as if the Tapster's had became suddenly so very interesting. Have the drunkards always been that disorganized? Some of them danced on the walls, and as a fight broke from the rocky ceiling she felt an urge to giggle at the ridiculousness of people seeing from below. Wait. Was she…? No. She could no longer tell up from down, so she sat, and the chair, impossibly high, so high she could barely see the tavern any longer, was as cold as a throne that had been empty for far too long. She wanted to see what lied around her throne, but everything blurred. The flame blazed in front of her, burning in colour of bright silver and ivory, greater and stronger than anything she had ever seen. Brilliant and powerful. Strong and saint. It had every shape and finally the image of a woman, her halo folding out in circles like a pebble thrown at calm waters or delicate petals of a blooming flower giving up life. It lasted in front of her eyes for only one eternal moment and it dented her mind with its beauty and magnificence.

The tinkle of the coins escaping her pockets woke her up, sweaty and anxious in her wedding gown. She rose, quickly and startled to collect the coins that rolled scattered across the cold marble floor. As she picked the first one up, her eyes became hypnotized by the metal, dull and old, covered in blood and dust; the engravings of the Cousland king so tarnished that his profile seemed about to completely disappear. As she held the coin in her hand, it turned her palm muddy, besmirched; the odour of blood invaded her nostril, burning her eyes as tears salted her lips. Amidst her sobs she realized her face reflected in the mirror-polished floor: she looked old and softened, her hair had loosen colour and her eyes held folds and creases, her lips were crowned by wrinkles and looked pale like kissed by the moonlight. As she looked at the coin once again, her king lied dead, old and peaceful, now clean and burnished so bright it became almost incandescent to her eyes.

Junia stared at Jarvia as the woman's hand rocked her awake. " _You're crying, what the fuck happened?_ ", the woman's voice passed through Junia's ears like a muffled ghost, meaningless wind. She looked at the rock solid ceiling, the meager light of a candle casting shadows on the other woman's furrowed brows. she tried to make sense of it all, but the stubborn thoughts seemed to play hide and seek in her mind. A deep breath and she inhaled reality, sharp like a slap to the face. Her hands irrevocably reached for her stomach and a gasp escaped her slack jaw, her expression shocked and scared. Shallow breaths and her eyes became wet again, eyes blinking all too fast so she could make sure this time she was awake. Her hands twitched in small spams palms open over her belly, her mind wanted that baby out her. Her heart wanted him in her arms. There was a long state of silent lethargy until she realized the other woman had stood and suspiciously wandered the bedroom still trying to understand such reaction from her lover. Junia's lips soon took a pale look, as if she had been painted white with jester powder, her heartbeats barely there anymore; swiftly she crumpled like a puppet abruptly released of its strings, collapsing on the bed, eyes wide open like reaching out hands to keep her out of the Fade.

Jarvia ran back to the bed, naked on her smalls as she heard the muffled 'thump' of Junia's body against the mattress. She held her by the shoulders, searching her neck for signs of injury, still trying to make sense of such unforeseen waken. Slowly Junia's eyes flickered, and a strong wave of nausea crept from her belly to her mouth and she tossed her face aside to spill herself on the crude stone floor. The world spun fast and grey around her as her insides revolved. “ _No, no… No, no, no, no! You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me, Junia! A fucking belly?!_ ”, the other startled, in a rude and bewildered tone. “ _Fuck!_ ” She stood, letting the other woman to puke her guts out by herself, wrapping herself around the heavy blanket, finger-combing her chocolate locks as if allowing her own mind to digest that piece of information. Unable to find words of sense of the situation, Jarvia simply walked away, slamming the door behind her. For Junia, a new door had just been opened.

**Author's Note:**

> The recommended song is "Hell's Kitchen" from Dream Theater's "Falling into Infinity" album. For more about Junia (and her child), read the amazing [Blood & Dust](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11106987/chapters/24785811), by the talented John Cousland.


End file.
